by Elodie Colt
“Matthew?” Ruby asks. “Kendra said he shouldered past her without another word when she told him your parents showed up unannounced.”
Leo plonks down opposite me, throwing her feet onto the table and wriggling her toes. “First guy I met who’s eager to meet his in-laws.”
“My parents are not his in-laws.” I remind her, fiddling with a thread on my scratchy bandage. “We’re not together.”
She makes a pop sound with her lips. “Exactly.”
“Seems he wanted to cover your ass,” Ruby muses.
“Oh, he did,” I say, “until he kicked me in the ass.”
This makes Ruby and Leo share a puzzled look.
“He told them something I never wanted them to know,” I go on in a leaden tone. “Something I never wanted anyone to know.”
“I’m sure it’s… harmless,” Leo drones with a pointed look at me.
My head jerks back as I gawk at her, trying to figure out if she just dropped a hint or not. The way she arcs an eyebrow is all the answer I need. Seriously, do I have a ‘Sam’s Secrets’ note stapled to my forehead, or what?
“You know?”
Leo gives a curt nod, prompting Ruby to ask, “Know what?”
And so I find myself confessing to Ruby what Leo has somehow known for a while now. Turned out that an author hired her to design a Romance book cover. Leo collected some ideas, stumbled upon a post on my Facebook business page, and recognized the picture I’d uploaded the day before, one of the bookshelf in my tree house filled with copies of Harmless by Sam K. Sapphire.
I face-palm myself when she finishes her unbelievable story, but Ruby roars with laughter when it turns out that Leo had, in fact, uncovered my secret only days after my book was published.
“I’m surprised you kept this to yourself for so long,” I say to Leo whose expression becomes eerily stern.
“I might be blunt, but I’m not an asshole. Just because I’m prone to blurting out the first thing that pops into my head, doesn’t mean I can’t keep a secret when it matters.”
A broad smile stretches on my face, and I stand to sweep her into a hug she didn’t see coming. She awkwardly pats my back, as usual weary when it comes to any sort of physical contact with other human creatures.
“Hey, I’m proud of you, honey,” Ruby says when I detach myself from Leo. “The way I see it, Matthew did you a favor. Aren’t you relieved that the cat is out of the bag?”
Sighing, I drop back into my seat. “Ask me again after my next call with Mom. I was too stunned yesterday to analyze her reaction when Matthew dropped the bomb.”
“How did he find out, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but—”
Right then, my phone chirps with an incoming message. I peek at the screen.
Matthew: Can we talk?
I wiggle my phone in the air. “—I’m going to find out.”
I roll my shoulders before I step out into the backyard in an attempt to loosen the knots moving in my chest like slithering snakes. I have a notion of how this talk is going to end.
In agony, a torrent of tears, and an unfixable heart.
To my surprise, Matthew’s lips hint at a smile the minute I approach him. I try to assess his mood but come up empty. I’d expected him to be as unable to meet my gaze as I am to meet his, but the way he drinks me in as if I just made his day catches me unprepared.
He sets down the pruner he’s been using to trim some branches in Christina’s garden and saunters over to the fence, propping his elbows on top.
I clear my throat when I halt opposite him with a forced smile. “Morning.”
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Beautiful? My heart relocates for a moment, taking up residence somewhere in my throat to flutter against my windpipe. The crooked grin on his face reminds me of how I came so hard yesterday, I feared the glass table was about to crack. I quickly mask my flustered expression by flashing my gaze past him to the empty neighbor’s porch.
“Christina isn’t here,” he says as if reading my thoughts, not following my glance and keeping his eyes riveted on me. “She’s getting a tattoo.”
“What, a tramp stamp?”
“No, her eyebrows have started to fade.”
I snort, shaking my head. I know what he’s doing. Trying to tear down that awkward wall that tends to rise ‘the day after.’ It works. Well, a little.
Our laughter subsides at some point. His guarded gaze tells me he’s waiting for me to share my thoughts with him about the things that went down yesterday, so I do.
“I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me when Mom put me through the wringer. I don’t know why you didn’t run for the hills, but I’m glad you were there, even if I still want to strangle you for telling them about my job,” I add with a grumble.
“Another slap, perhaps?” He stretches his head over the fence, pointing to his stubbled cheek. “Seeing as I didn’t give you the chance yesterday…”
“The number of slaps you deserve would make you toothless, Matthew.”
He shrugs, suppressing a grin. “As long as you still find me handsome.”
I scoff. Why is he still in flirting mode? He could at least give me an official rebuff before he drags my neighbor to the altar.
“Will you finally tell me how you found out about me writing books?” I ask instead. “And how the hell did you even get your hands on a copy?”
“I have my sources,” is his cryptic, cheeky-grin reply before his face becomes austere. He rakes a hand through his gorgeous hair, the same hair I pulled yesterday until the roots protested. “Listen, about yesterday. I’m sorry I pushed you, okay? And I—”
“I get it,” I cut him off, just to save myself the pain his words would cause. Better to inflict the pain myself. That way, I can at least try and cut my losses. “It was me who crossed the line. You told me about your plantation’s future and Christina offering you support in exchange for… well, you know.” I pause to swallow, just to find the strength to push the next words out of my mouth. “It… it was a mistake.”
A mistake that felt so good it’s hard to believe it was the wrong thing to do.
“A mistake?” He blinks at me. “I don’t—”
“Matthew, there you are!” a familiar voice rings out from behind him, and I watch his expression change from confusion to mild irritation as he whips his head around.
A second later, a disturbingly cheerful Jillian bounces toward us. She places a lingering kiss onto Matthew’s cheek and grabs his ass so hard, he stumbles a step forward.
My gaze drops to the ground as I gnash my teeth. Damn that girl and her fucked-up timing.
“Jillian,” Matthew mutters in shock. “What are you doing here?” He clears his throat. If the whole situation weren’t so dreadfully compromising, I would have laughed at the way he lost his composure. “I mean, I hadn’t expected you to—”
Jillian interrupts his verbal diarrhea with a melodic laugh and a peck on his lips.
“Hey, Sam.” She swivels her head to me, showing me a surprising cordiality she hasn’t granted me in years. “I see your garden is shining in new splendor.”
I follow her gaze to my restored porch, just to win a few seconds to school my features.
“Uh, yeah. All Matthew’s doing.”
“Yes, he’s very… dexterous with his hands.”
Pun intended. Message received. Heart failing.
Matthew tries to catch my gaze in my periphery, but I avert my eyes, afraid he’ll see my face crack.
“Honey, I’ve got something to show you,” Jillian directs at him. “I’ve started working on a business plan for the plantation, and I could use your input.”
She tugs at his hand. Matthew follows reluctantly, but not before he shoots me an apologetic look along with a whispered, ‘talk later.’
I don’t respond.
We both know there’s nothing left to talk about.
“Hey, where’s the fire?” Ruby yells when
I blaze past her.
I don’t answer, just dash up to my room and collapse face-first onto my bed, where I stay for the rest of the afternoon to wallow in my stupidity.
I warned you, my heart feels the need to point out. I told you I was falling for him, but you didn’t protect me. You didn’t save me. Now, watch me crumble.
“Fuck!” I scream into the pillow but refuse to shed a tear.
I let him fuck me over. Literally. Now, he’s going to fuck Jillian, right next door, and I have to keep up the friendly neighbors act as if nothing ever happened. As if I hadn’t allowed her future fiancé to screw me on the dining table.
The girls pop their heads in occasionally, asking what’s wrong. I dismiss them all with my middle finger and continue to beat myself up about that crap-ass triangle I never wanted to be a part of.
The afternoon bleeds into evening until night falls, plunging me into the same darkness seeping from the stupid, fragile organ in my chest. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me into a dreamless sleep.
Turns out, a broken heart comes with advantages when you need to be creative. The following day, the next chapter is almost writing itself, ending in an unexpected, soul-crushing turning point that I know will make readers smash the book against the wall in frustration.
Good. They want to feel my pain? They’re going to get the full dose.
I rip open my second package of chocolate cookies for today just when the door slams open.
I jump in my seat. “Hey! What—”
“Self-pitying phase is over,” Kendra declares when she barges in with Skyla in tow.
“I’m working.”
“Clearly.” She nods to the Fail Compilation of the year YouTube clip running on my screen. What can I say, I really needed a good laugh today.
Scowling, I shut my laptop. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Watch us.” Skyla grins, grabs the waistband of my cookie-stained sweatpants, and yanks them down my ass.
“Hey!”
Ignoring my complaints, Kendra snatches my work pants from the floor and slaps them into my face. “We still have work to do in the garden.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. You just go and start without me,” I counter resolutely, tossing the pants back at her. My calendar tells me that an encounter with Matthew isn’t on my schedule today.
“Nice try.” Kendra juts out her chin. “Matthew isn’t here today, so you’re all clear. Christina took him shopping with her.” Good. Let him suffer.
“Get your hands off me!” I yell when Skyla tries to stuff my feet into the pants. “I can do that myself…”
For the rest of the afternoon, the three of us keep ourselves busy leveling out the lawn and seeding all the bald spots. Well, Kendra and Skyla do most of the work, much to my surprise, while I zone out every now and then, wondering when I’ll find the guts again to set foot into my tree house where Matthew ruined me with his first kiss.
To my relief, the two girls sense my distress and let me stew in silence. Not sure how long Kendra will let me get away with the silent treatment, but I’m glad she’s saving the vexing interrogation for another day. I’m physically exhausted, emotionally drained, and in dire need of a shallow Netflix rom-com, just for a chance to escape reality for the rest of the evening.
Alas, an annoying neighbor is eager to thwart my plans.
“Sam?”
Jillian’s voice wafting over the fence makes me grit my teeth and pray for strength. Be careful what you say, or you might accidentally spill that the guy who’s about to propose to her already hit a home run with you.
For a second, I debate whether to stick the truth in her pretty face, tell her that her future was sealed with a handshake and a dodgy deal between Matthew and her mother, but I can’t go there. I’m a lot of things but not a vengeful bitch.
I amble over to the fence where Jillian is waiting for me, arms crossed. “Hey. What’s up?”
My tone conveys that I’m not in the mood for a chat but gathering from her condemning look, she’s not overly eager for a face-to-face either. Her eyes travel past me as if to make sure we’re out of earshot before they cut back to me.
“I know you slept with Matthew,” she informs me without preamble, keeping her voice low but firm. “I found the picture.”
I cock an eyebrow at her, deciding to focus on the last part of her speech before confirming the first and likely running into a trap. “What picture?”
She scoffs, uttering a derisive chuckle. Her bangs sway as she shakes her head and produces her phone to whiz her thumbs over the touchscreen. “Play the innocent blonde all you want, Sam, but this picture doesn’t lie.”
She turns the device around, showing me the screen. At first, all I see is two naked legs and a girl’s mouth wide open in pleasure. But then, slowly, I start to recognize the details—her dress, her couch, her… toy.
My hand grips the fencing post. It feels as if I just stepped through a portal to get chewed out somewhere near the Antarctic ice cap, because I swear the temperature has dropped by a hundred degrees, shooting a cold shiver down my spine.
Something drops to the ground. My jaw, maybe, or a chunk of my heart. No, from the sound of it, just the last pieces of my self-esteem.
“Sam?”
A voice calls my name from far away, and I somehow manage to drag my gaze up to Jillian’s face. A face that turns from contemptible to leery to finally deeply shocked. Her eyebrows slam together as she blinks at me.
“You didn’t know,” she whispers when it dawns on her that I had no fucking clue this amateur porn pic existed. “You didn’t know he took it… I’m sorry. I’m going to delete it, okay?”
I want to bop my head in a nod, but the only thing I can do is zone out while my mind replays that day Matthew sneaked into my room. Motherfucker. The asshole didn’t just barge into my most intimate moment to watch me in the act in secret, he even took a fucking picture without my permission.
“I just wanted to say that the thing between Matthew and me is serious, okay?” Jillian says in a softer yet stern tone, pulling a part of my mind back to her as she retrieves a square, black box from her pocket and opens the lid.
A feeling hits me like a battering ram. A feeling I don’t understand. I thought I was already drubbed, battered, and defeated, but for some reason, the sight in front of me has the power to crack my foundation.
What Jillian holds in her hands is the final blow. The hammer that thrusts the last nail into my heart.
A fucking engagement ring.
Twenty-One
Samantha
I raise my hand to slap Matthew in the face, but the sound is unsatisfying. Too dull for the impact that whips his head to the side.
My eyes crack open. It was just a dream. And the soft clank that jerked me awake was not my hand on Matthew’s cheek, but a pencil that dropped to the floor only to thud against the pile of used tissues next to my bed.
I turn my head. Leo is sprawled over me, drooling on her sketchpad, her hand dangling over the bed that apparently held her pencil a second ago.
I rub the crumbs of dried tears from my eyes. It’s already dark outside. After I threw myself another pity party that ended in awkward sobs and hiccups, Leo sneaked into my room, slid under the sheets next to me, and started drawing. She didn’t ask me what was wrong. She simply said nothing. Words are a tool she doesn’t know how to handle, so she offered me comfort with her presence, silently letting me know that I wasn’t alone and lulling me to sleep with the soft, rhythmic scratches of her pencil.
The distorted boom of deep drums mixed with a saxophone solo suddenly blares over the hallway. The bass vibrates through the bed frame, and Leo jolts awake with a snort. She wipes the drool from her mouth and rolls off me while a woman’s voice starts to sing the haunting melody of Hit Me Harder.
“If I have to listen to that song for one more fucking minute, I’ll need to fix extra appointments with my shrink.”
Me, I love the son
g, but it has become a dreadful reminder of the day Matthew sucked orange juice from my neck.
The knock on the door almost drowns in the music rattling through my room before Skyla pops her head in. Chirpy as always, she swaggers in with Kendra and Ruby in tow. Some unintelligible death threats come from Leo when they switch on the lights and lounge out on my bed. The mattress creaks under the weight.
“We’re going out tonight,” Skyla declares, grinning around the lollipop sticking from her mouth.
“I’m not in the mood,” I grouch with a heavy yawn.
“That’s exactly why we’re going. We all go.”
“Only over my dead body,” Leo deadpans, but Kendra stays unfazed by her callous comment and wiggles Leo’s phone in front of her face.
“I think your phone could use a new ring tone. I know how much you love that song,” she drawls, referring to the melodic beat still blaring from her stereo.
Suddenly, Leo is wide awake, trying to yank her phone from her friend’s hand, but she quickly hops to her feet.
“Give it back!” Leo yells, but Kendra just giggles, prompting Leo to haul her ass up and take off after her as she makes a run for it. Her high heels hammer into the floor as Leo chases after her.
That’s when I notice that Kendra isn’t the only one dressed up for a party night. Ruby is clad in a black sheath dress, her dark hair twisted into a pretty braid, while Skyla has swapped her usual cut-offs for a soft-pink mini skirt.
“Can’t we go, like, tomorrow or something?” I ask in hopes of getting a rain check when Skyla sweeps over to my closet to ransack my clothes.
“Nice try, Sam.” She fishes out one of my favorite summer dresses and flings it onto the bed. “Austin is celebrating his birthday today. The whole surfer crew is going out tonight.”
Ruby emphasizes this with a grin and a suggestive wink in my direction. Austin is Skyla’s best friend slash surfer dude, with blue eyes to kill for and locks so golden, they glow like sun rays. The guy is the epitome of hot, just like the rest of his friends that all resemble young Matthew McConaughey versions.
